


Tidal

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: Drarry Dump [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Draco's Birthday, Drarry, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco takes a moment to reflect on his life the morning after his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidal

**Author's Note:**

> In response to a surprise birthday bash thrown for our birthday boy.  
> [See what happens when you invite Slytherins onto a ship? ;)]

There is a red stiletto in the champagne fountain and the smell of smoke hanging thick in the air. I can feel a layer of grime on my skin that I’m itching to wash off; you know what I’m talking about, that heavy mix of ocean air and sweat, the type of thing that picks at you until you’re clawing at yourself in a vain attempt to get it off.

Maybe it’s just me, who knows…

Harry told me some time before that the invitations had said ‘anything goes’ and by the state of things I can certainly say that without a doubt, my friends (is that what you call people who come to wish you well?) have certainly lived up to that request. Adrian Pucey and his arm candy Julien are sprawled out on the sun deck above, stark naked as if they own the place. Every so often they wake up and fuck like they are the only two people in the world and I can’t help but find some sort of gross amusement in this. Astoria and Daphne Greengrass are curled up with several bottles of champagne and a man I am fairly certain I’ve never seen before. Cho disappeared down below a while back with our host when she thought no one was looking; someone is _always_ looking, Cho. Hermione and Ron are asleep on one of the deck loungers and Pansy Parkinson is passed out under a table; oddly enough she is missing a shoe…

My name is Draco Malfoy and this is my life, and even though it resembles **nothing** of the life I always thought I would grow into, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Today is my birthday, well technically my birthday ended at midnight, but since the party is still going on, I am still the birthday boy. It was Blaise who brought me here; on the wings of a shiny portkey and the promise of a smile. I am not one that usually jumps into situations without being able to calculate some sort of outcome, but I trust Blaise; and so here we are.

Speaking of Blaise, where is he? Come to think of it I haven’t seen Ginny Weasley in some time either…

I think I am rather drunk and I couldn’t tell you how many glasses of champagne I’ve had or how many cheeks I’ve kissed or hands I’ve shook; but I am happy. It’s cold outside and I have no idea what time it is, although I know that fading purple on the horizon well enough to know that it’s nearly sunrise.

Sunrise.

The thing you should remember about sunrises is that they always come, without fail. Even after the darkest of nights. It’s a lot like life you see; there will always be light to chase away your darkness. I didn’t always know that, and it took me quite a long time to learn that lesson, but now that I do know it I will never ever forget it. 

Don’t mind me, I told you I was drunk, but that’s okay; it’s still my birthday and I feel more alive than I ever have and it’s all in part to the warm lump that is currently snoring softly in my lap.  He was so worried about this entire thing, I didn’t really need anyone to tell me so; I knew. You would never know it now though; he looks so peaceful when he sleeps. His brows twitch and his chest rises and falls rhythmically and he looks content. When I trace my fingertips over his sleeping skin it reacts, as if it knows I am there; even subconsciously. I can’t help but smile at this and although I know I should let him be, I cannot. I want to touch his warmth and twist strands of his hair around my fingertips; I can’t help but wonder if the ocean salt clings to him in the same way it clings to me. He’s stirring and now I know I’ve really done it, but I don’t care and I know he won’t either.

“Wake up Harry or you’ll miss the sunrise.”

My words are surprisingly straight considering how lopsided by brain feels and I find myself instantly smirking smugly, as if this singular thing were my greatest accomplishment of the morning.  The sky is quickly fading from violet to lavender and the stars are slowly disappearing and now I know that I am drunk beyond repair because no one finds these types of things as interesting as this moment feels to me right now.

“Harry…”

I whisper and I glance down to my lap and my lips form a groggy sort of half-smile. My thumb swipes gently over chapped and abused lips and he barely stirs, except to burrow closer against my wrinkled shirt as if seeking my warmth to take as his own.

It is with an acquiescing sigh that I lean back in my lounger and wait to welcome the day. I continue to twist his wild locks around my fingers and stroke his sleeping skin; I can’t help it after all, and I don’t really want to; so you know. The lavender is now a steadily fading cerulean and it’s nearly here, this day after, or light, or white, or whatever you would like to call it.  My eyes slide shut and I can still feel it, thrumming gently against my eyelids, refusing to be ignored. I smile to myself this time at it is right about here that my deck lounger shifts in such a way that it could simply be the boat riding a gentle wave.

_“Wake up Draco or you’ll miss the sunrise.”_

And just like that I’m warm all over, but this time it’s not the sun or the alcohol, but something else entirely.

You made it.


End file.
